going gently into the winter solstice good night🌙

Beneath the bustle of the holidays something quieter is happening. Here in the Northern Hemisphere, earth is preparing for stillness and I’m here for it.

The Winter Solstice marks the longest night of the year, the moment when darkness reaches its peak before light begins its slow return. 

Although I’m not a fan of winter, I’m fascinated by the solstice. That it has endured indicates just how deeply this moment mattered to our ancestors and to us today. It’s remarkable how they tracked the sun with such precision, creating stone circles and monuments like Stonehenge to mark its navigation. 

Taking notice gives us a lesson in balance: light and dark, growth and rest, action and stillness. They passed this knowledge down to us not as theory, but as ritual—because rituals endure where instructions fade.

So we heed the invitation to pause and not collapse, to make a conscious turning inward to recalibrate and honor the unseen work happening beneath the surface of our lives.

We still need these reminders that we burn out when we don’t get enough rest. Slowing down is not failure, it is preservation and preparation for who we are becoming—our "you-to-be".

And so it is. The Winter Solstice doesn’t ask us to conquer the dark. It asks us to enter it wisely. To go gently into the good night—not in surrender, but in trust.

Trust that stillness restores and that light doesn’t just shine, it returns whether we force it or not. The solstice offers proof—reassurance written in the sky—that darkness won’t last forever.

What a beautiful inheritance, not instruction for living faster, but wisdom for living deeper, fuller and longer.

May we remember that balance is achieved not through constant brightness or productivity, but through rhythm.

May we discover what to let go of and conversely what we want to protect until the light returns.